After weeks of prep, heaps of chaos and fun, and excess of baked goods... our first ever holiday hosting week has come to a close. Hearing our alarms and leaving our cozy covers was tricky this morning, and I admit to three cups of coffee today, but we are slowly surely getting through laundry and basic cleaning and back to normal. I love holidays, but I love normal too. That's a good place to be, I'd say.

We shopped Black Friday. Do you guys watch random news clips of fanatic shoppers piling up and shoving one another for goods? This is the total opposite of what our black Friday shopping is, thankfully. We start at a healthy hour of around 7 or 8am... no sense getting up too early on a day off, right? Leisurely breakfast with family takes precedence, then strolls up and down the blocks before the crowds pile up. As soon as things get busy, we're out. I can't handle chaos. It feels like old-school Black Friday to me- maybe because it's been tradition my whole life, but I can't get into door-busters and lining up. I commend those of you who save all the cash and can stick it out, but I don't have it in me. ;)

I love Black Friday though, and not just for the sales... It's the day my first little girl was born. She turned six ON Black Friday, and it was all nostalgia and memories for me being downtown on her birthday with the crowds.

On Thanksgiving six years ago, my dad decided to take off running after some petty robbers trying to steal coins from their car, haha. I say "haha" now, but at the time we were like, DAD- you are not 21 anymore and shouldn't be chasing the bad guys, etc etc, and I will forever say that my panic mode started my contractions. Thanks dad. The next day, I still participated in the breakfast & shopping because everything was so mild for so long, but definitely avoided random friends I spotted in the city because well... the swollen-about-to-give-birth mode isn't going to be anyone's best looking day. Who wants to see friends you haven't seen for 10 years when you're looking like that? I know. No one.

Sophie came at 6:31 that day, and with her came a wealth of fears and anticipation and excitement and incredible, unforgettable, heart MOMENTS. It's indescribable.. the whole beautiful thing. A tiny babe, so entirely dependent on us for everything... And there we were-- so inexperienced, so overwhelmed, so far from confident... She was tinier than I imagined, and our hearts fell in love faster than we ever knew possible.

Last Friday, we sat at the same restaurant as six years ago... together with Brian's family, with mine, and with our Sophie in the middle. We each took a turn sharing one thing we adore about her, and her beaming smile and bright eyes will be etched in my mind forever. When each person finished their words, she smiled and said "thank you for saying that." I sat there blown away, and my eyes nearly burned with tears of love and pride. I don't cry about happy things, but this moment- ahhh this moment. It makes my heart nearly burst because she IS all those things. She is kind. She is thoughtful. She cares about others. She is imaginative. She is loving.

Six is a good age. Five was too, and so were the other numbers. It just keeps getting better. My mom said it would, and whenever I think to myself that I'd like to freeze these days and keep them tiny, I do my best to remember that, and enjoy how much fun we will have together as these girls grow up too.

We have rough days, rough moments, but the good so thoroughly outweighs the challenges. The kisses and cuddles and sweetness of motherhood and memories I wouldn't trade for the world.

Happy birthday sweet girl. We adore you. We thank God every single day for you, our little darling. Thank you for being you.